#cw: mention of violence

[phoebe-delia]

One of my favorite cliche Drarry headcanons is Harry and Draco each being the only other person to be able to match the other's dueling skills.

Like when they duel (for auror/unspeakable training or something idc) it ends in a draw, or they go back and forth so many times there is no big overall winner.

But when they fight TOGETHER against something? When it's them IN TANDEM?? HOLYYY SHIT the other side better WATCH OUT because they are a dynamic duo and they WILL START MAKING OUT while standing over the unconscious body of whoever they just beat.

[ragingsands]

(content warning: mention of violence, mention of genocide)

A Pre-Islamic tradition once told the story of a blue-eyed woman, who lived in the city of Al-Yamamah. She was a women whose eyesight was sharper than most, intuition surpassed those of warring men, and most of all - the ability to predict things before they happened.

The ancient tale told the story of the town relying very much on her sight and to detect enemies, as she was believed by the villagers that she could see riders one week ahead of their arrival. Eventually, the raiders that came knew of her sight, and hid behind trees, moving with trees that slowly came closer to the village every day.

However, because Zarqa informed the townspeople that the trees were moving towards them, while hiding the true raiders, her fellow villagers refused to believe her and thought she was going mad. The troops of the HImyari kingdom, led by Hassan al-Himyari reached her tribe and killed every single man in the camp, and later crucified her after gouging her eyes out.

(if it helps to understand, the names of Arabs in the time of Pre-Islam were often (first name) followed by (tribe or town). Zarqa is typically referred to as Zarqa Al-Yamamah, however, she is noted to come from the tribe of Jadis, as she was married off. The Himyarites used to lead the genocide of the Jadis tribe, leading to their extinction.)

I have reasons to believe that the Stargazer (Anarkia) is based on the story of Zarqa Al-Yamama, namely: the blue eyes, the keen foresight and the ability to tell ahead of time. At the end of the day, however, she was also turned into a scapegoat because people refused to believe what she had to say. Although it may be true in Path to Nowhere's progression, where she has had to be shunned for believing in the Dreamflower.

Zarqa's eyesight were described to be "able to distinguish grey hair in white milk, and spot travellers a day and night away. More so that darkness would enhance her vision."

Arabs to this day still use a saying to talk of her eyesight, saying "as sharp as Zarqa's sight".

[children-of-epiales]

Conversation

(The night Lara’s parents decide talk about leaving Poland)

26 June, 2008

     As her parents converse in the next room, Lara remains in her so-called secret spot, her back and head pressed against the wall and her legs folded up so they don’t cross over into the light. 

“ Scotland? Dear, there are so many countries in the world-why would your brilliant mind wander back to the United Kingdom?” Roxie demands in an exhausted tone. 

“ It’s just a suggestion, Diantha.” Arkadiusz reminds her, the sigh he lets out immediately after giving away that he, too, wants to be done with the conversation. “ I agree-our daughter should get to experience something new, but I don’t want her to be completely overwhelmed. Please, don’t act like you’ve forgotten why we’re discussing this.” 

The Irishwoman’s shoulders sink upon hearing the reminder. 

Lara’s eyes grow and she readjusts herself against the wall, shifting slightly further away from the entrance to the living room. If it wasn’t for why she’s decided to eavesdrop on her parents in the first place, she would be covering her ears as well. 

“ Of course I’m worried about her.” Her mother confirms. “ Don’t act like you’ve forgotten you’re the reason I haven’t killed that boy for punching Lara in the eye the other day.” 

Arkadiusz cannot hide how easily the scene reappears in his mind. He closes his eyes before he can see his wife’s grin. 

The brunette reaches up to touch the skin right below her eyelashes, having seen in the mirror earlier that the skin around her eye is still faintly bruised. The words he and the others shouted at her start to echo in her head again: Diabeł! Wróć do piekła, Diabeł! Nie należysz tutaj!

“ Maybe we should move to Scotland…” 

Roxie’s words break Lara free from the fog; she covers her mouth just in time to hide her gasping, the idea of moving never having crossed her mind before. She then decides she is unable to continue listening due to her chest feeling as if it has been torn wide open. 

“ I know it’s been a long week-” The Pole reaches for his wife’s hand; he kisses it, “-but we both know we’ve been avoiding this conversation. This was supposed to be where Lara was supposed to grow up.” 

“ And they took all of that from us.” Roxie states dryly. 

“ It’s late, let’s go to bed.”

The couple consider moving, only to freeze when they hear their child run upstairs. Lara closes her bedroom door much less gently than she desires, and Roxie can’t help her head falling into her hands. 

“ I’ll go talk to her-” Roxie tells her husband immediately. 

Arkadiusz stands up instead, one of his hands finds and squeezes his wife’s shoulder. “ No, no, you should go to bed.” He reassures her, “ I’ll speak to her.” 

The Pole follows the Irishwoman upstairs, waiting until she enters their bedroom before he goes to their daughter’s room; he knocks lightly and waits what he hopes is a minute, then enters the dark room. 

Arkadiusz closes the curtains first. He pauses, his head following the sound of the weeping, his knees slowly giving out so as to not make so much noise and lifts the end of the comforter up. 

All the way at the other end of the space, Lara lies curled up; her soft crying forces the warlock to crawl over to the head of the bed, Arkadiusz lifts up the cover. “ Proszę wyjść tam, Lara.” He pleads. 

He watches the girl freeze up, quick sniffs and deep breaths follow. “ Nie chcę, po prostu zostaw mnie w spokoju.” Lara presses herself further against the wall, she shuts her mouth in an effort to stop making sounds all together. The pains in her chest, unlike the sounds, do not come to an end. She cannot ignore them nor pretend the pain does not exist. 

Arkadiusz rests on his side, his hand extending as far as it can under the bed and keeps it there. 

Time seems to stop; Lara senses this, she knows she couldn’t avoid her father for long, even if she wanted to. 

“ Why are we leaving our home, Papa?” The girl finally gives in. “ I didn’t do anything wrong-I don’t think I did. I was trying to…” There’s nothing she can think of that would make sense to her father, with how many times he promised her that the kids who despised her so much were never Lara’s fault. 

Reassurance, her father promised her many times before, lasts for quite awhile. What he didn’t think of was that the magic that came with said reassurance had eventually worn off. That, and Arkadiusz taking her to school most mornings so the kids themselves and their parents had time to consider his imposing size; it was all he could do, the warlock couldn’t go to class with Lara and continue to be big and scary. 

“ This will be for all of us, moje Serce.” Arkadiusz blinks as his daughter almost hits her head turning so she could face him. “ Could you please come out from under the bed, Lara-I don’t want you to knock yourself out.” 

The girl eagerly climbs out from under the bed. “ Why do you want to leave Poland?” Lara immediately asks her father. 

“ Me? Oh well-well for me I suppose there’s nothing here for me anymore.” Arkadiusz responds. He could never get away with lying, not even with Lara. “ I do love Poland, the people I grew up with and the city-but it’s time for something new now.” He won’t say he’s made the decision to leave before, that there was nothing left for him in the country before, and he certainly couldn’t admit he came back for Lara’s sake. 

“ And Mama?” 

“ Moje Serce, you will have to ask her.”

He takes the few seconds he has to study the girl, while she contemplates actually wanting to ask her mother about the situation; besides how obvious it seems that Lara would prefer to avoid the topic around Roxie, Arkadiusz notices some sort of relief on her face. Possibly that she herself isn’t the reason he and her mother decided it would be best to move. 

“ We should have told you sooner-” He acknowledges when it becomes clear that the idea went right over his and Roxie’s heads, “ we just wanted to make sure we spoke about it before telling you. I’m sorry, Lara, if we made you feel like this was-” The words stop coming out because Arkadiusz cannot say “your fault”  to her face. He knows she knows what he means, to him it’s important that she knows that no one is blaming her for anything. Because Lara hasn’t done anything wrong. 

Arkadiusz carefully reaches and wipes a tear from Lara’s cheek before it can run. He remembers the principal’s words about the situation, the moment he and Roxie entered the office, the warlock was recognized by the now-elderly teachers. 

They were able to connect two-and-two better than the principal, who insisted there was no need to press charges against the students who chased after Lara the day before. That it was all a misunderstanding.

Roxie wanted to kill the kids. While the idea seemed a little extreme to the warlock, despite the situation, he knew the family would not be leaving Poland without expressing their dissatisfaction with the school and the children who should have been held responsible. No matter that people were wary of them before. 

Lara standing up snaps the warlock out of his thoughts. He rises as Lara sits on her bed. “ I know you said it already, Papa…” The girl says wearily. “ But, it isn’t my fault that we’re moving? I didn’t cause anything bad to happen for you and Mama, did I?” 

Arkadiusz shakes his head. “ I promise you, Lara.” He adds. “ Now, you probably already heard me say this-but it’s very late. You try and get some rest tonight, in the morning all three of us will talk about moving together, alright?” 

Not wanting to object, Lara lays down while her father pulls the covers up and over her.

*****

Translations:

Diabeł = Devil

Wróć do piekła, Diabeł = Go back to hell, Devil

 Nie należysz tutaj = You don’t belong here

Proszę wyjść tam = Please come out from under there

Nie chcę, po prostu zostaw mnie w spokoju = I don’t want to, just leave me alone

Moje Serce= My Heart

*****

Tag List: @poisonedtruth

[npdemu]

reblog to blow up an ableist

[kitocrystal]

just posting it like this bc Im way too lazy to copy it all down on here

[yandere--stuck]

NEED to know your thoughts on a yandere bill cipher

⚠️ Listen, pal, I KNOW why you're reading this. You've got a crush on YOURS TRULY! That's right, buddy, the cat's outta the bag! Well, not like the cat was ever really in the bag to begin with. What? Didn't think my all-seeing eye would spy you making goo-goo eyes at artistic depictions of me? AHAHA, aw, hey! Nothing to be embarrassed about. It's not like I can blame you, I mean, have you met me? A winning personality, great sense of humor, beautiful singing voice - I'm a total catch! And between you and me, you have better taste than the rest of your species’ population.

👁 There are probably numerous reason why you like stuff like this: The obsession, the possessive behavior, the VIOLENCE. Sure sounds like romance to ME! But as for you… Is it the abandonment issues? Lack of validation in your life? Feeling misunderstood and ostracized by the world? Loneliness? A desire for an escape into a fictional world? Or are you like me? Is romance just no good without the true passion of twisted devotion and obsession? There's no need to LIE! We're kindred spirits, you and I.

⚠️ I know just how you feel. You've been kicked down, laughed at, and made to feel small. You've gone unappreciated by blind MORONS who wouldn't know greatness if it melted their eyeballs out their ears. Because you are MEANT for greatness. You are meant for something more, and I bet it burns you to know that. That you're better than all of them. That they're nothing without you, and they DESERVE nothing. They deserve to BE nothing. I know just how you feel because I was in your place. Surrounded by flat minds in a flat world with flat dreams. HA, and I sure showed them. WHO'S LAUGHING NOW, HUH? ME!!!!!!

👁 The point is, I know you. I've had my eye on you for quite a while, kid. Q U I T E A W H I L E. And might I say, out of all the flesh bags that have clogged my vision over the centuries, YOU'RE clearly the best looking outta all of ‘em, hot stuff. But looks aren't everything, of course! You've got a personality to match. Gotta admit, it's cute how you get so invested in your interests, the little hobbies you pick up, just watching you go about your day is like the universe’s greatest reality TV show starring my favorite person in the multiverse! OH, I could just decaptiate you and nuzzle your fleshy little head in an approximation of a kiss right now!!!

⚠️ So, c'mon, just let me in. Shake my hand! Let's make a deal. No matter how big or small! And it’s not just for the purpose of liberating your dimension, no. I want to really get under your skin. To feel what it's like to be in the body of my favorite person. As close as two beings can get, closer than you can get with unworthy specimens of your own kind, more intimate than any experience in the world. I want to be that close to you. Because you're mine. You're MY HUMAN and NOTHING WILL CHANGE THAT. Y'HEAR ME?

👁 So, you might as well accept that you and me are destined, kid. The signs are all there. So, if I were you (and I could be, if you'd just let me), I'd do this the easy way. Because right now, there's two ways this can go down. The easy way: You summon me, and we make a deal. Anything your precious human heart desires - and more! You'll be my precious human pet, my puppet, my toy. Mine to own and have rule beside me! You'll prove everyone who put you down wrong! Anything you want - love, money, fame, worship, vengeance - it'll all be yours, and I'll give it to you. Because I want you to be happy. Because I want what's best for you. Because I’M the only one who actually cares about you. Everything you wanted will be yours. And there'll be an eternal party to celebrate our eternal love… Or, you could do this the hard way. Cause I'm gettin’ outta here one way or another. And when I do, well… I don't think you'd like being locked up in The Love Cage to be TORTURED until you reciprocate my feelings and see the light. I'd say I wouldn't want to, but that'd be lying. So, it's probably not a good idea to give me more of a reason to. So, whaddaya say? You know you deserve the best. Shake my hand and join the winning team. Either way, you're mine.

[jesncin]

Happy Trans Day of Visibility! This year I wanted to celebrate by showing you what Lunar Boy, our upcoming middle grade graphic novel, means to us as queer Indonesian representation: the thought process behind crafting a sci-fi Indonesian future that embraces queer history.

Pre-order Lunar Boy or add it on goodreads! Support QPOC creators and stories!

[loudclan-clangen]

Loudclan - Moon 29: Part 1

Summer rolls across the valley territories with a vengeance. The sparse mountain territory of Loudclan offers little reprieve from the ever present sun that beats down on the cats. While most patrols rush back to camp to take shelter in the caves during the midday hours, young warriors itch for a chance to prove themselves, and evidence of trespassers provides just that for Fiercestripe's patrol.

A fight breaks out between the patrol and the farm cats. Though the clan-cats are highly trained fighters, save for Fiercestripe they are untested in battle, and are outnumbered more than 2:1. There will certainly be losses.

[clangen: *takes everyone's favorite characters, throws them in a blender, and sets it to liquefy* me: *twirls my little metaphorical evil mustache* ahh, yes, just as I planned... For real though, I am so glad to finally get this moon (half of it at least) out to you guys! It is definitely the biggest and most time and skill intensive moon so far and I had a ton of fun drawing it! Unfortunately, that means that the second part is going to take a similarly long while to finish, but I hope that the quality of them makes up for the wait! I hope you guys all enjoy! If you're a little lost as to who the farm cats are check out this pmv and this family tree]

Edit: It's been pointed out to me that Rosehiptree's age is wrong here. That's my bad, this was a HUGE project and while I did my best to not make any mistakes it slipped past me. She's 14 moons old, the same as Dogwoodmoth, but it would be more trouble than it's worth to change it, given the size of the moon not allowing me to upload images on mobile, so lets all just do me a favor and pretend it says 14 instead of 13. Thanks!

[txjis]

there’s something so hot abt toji being violent..

cw: mention of blood, he’s beating some rando up, mention of getting groped by rando.

“what do you think pretty?” he asks, holding the dude up off the ground by the front of his shirt. the man’s face was covered in blood and tears. toji’s knuckles were stained with this man’s crimson. toji had been pummeling into him for a while now.

”think he learned his lesson?” toji looks back towards you, gauging your reaction very carefully. you said you wanted to see this random man get what he deserved, but toji also knew you hadn’t seen the things he has. even with his knuckles covered in blood and throbbing he was still making sure you were okay.

“no.” you scoff, looking down at the male that was sprawled out in an alleyway. it would never be enough, he would never learn. not until you forgot about the way his hand felt on your ass. you watched toji chuckle, something wild flashing behind his green eyes. since meeting you, he hadn’t been super violent- not wanting to put you in any danger. but there was a permanently corrupted part of him that missed it.

”whatever y’say pretty baby.” he chuckles, just before the sound of knuckled cracking against a face echoed through your ears. you watched your boyfriend beat the shit out of a man that thought he had the right to touch you. there was a satisfying feeling in your tummy when toji dropped him to the ground, chest heaving.

“c’mon mama, let’s go home.”

[loganslowdown4]

Janus: Darling, can you do me a favour?

Remus: I would literally cover up a murder you committed, plant my DNA at the scene of the crime, and take the blame for you-

Janus: Cool, can you do the dishes?

Remus: No

[one-time-i-dreamt]

Disney started a new subscription service where they send clowns to your house every night and you had to fight them. Not necessarily to the death, but to the point of defeat.

[selineram3421]

*is tired*

Courting Pursuit

Part 3

Part 2

Alastor X Deer Reader

Warnings ⚠

⚠ mule deer reader, gender neutral (gn) reader, assuming Alastor is a marsh deer, Spanish translated, cussing, blood, Valentino's dialogue is pink italics in quotation marks, mentions of aphrodisiac(drug), italics= thoughts ⚠

"Where's Gentle Giant?", Angel asked looking around for the tall deer.

"They have a name you know.", Vaggie sighed.

You were not seen at all today by the others and caused some slight worry among some of the group. Of course, Alastor could care less.

"I know but really, where are they? I didn't see 'em this morning."

Husk turned to look at the spider demon with a raised brow.

"They wake up at five in the morning to start breakfast early. You've been wakin' up early?", the cat demon asked.

Angel raised his arms up. "How could I not!? Have you seen them make breakfast? That's a whole meal on its own! Shaking their ass around to the music they put on, half buttoned up shirt, and those leggings.", he crosses his arms. "I didn't get to see shit today! Kitchen was empty!"

"I didn't get my bugs today!", Niffty piped in. "They usually give me bugs that they find in the kitchen after cooking."

The group continued to wonder where you had gone until Charlie came into the lobby with Sir Pentious.

"Oh, I gave them an errand.", the Princess said.

"WHY!?", the arachnid cried out.

"Shut up Angel.", the white haired woman sighed.

"They said they wanted to do something outside, so I offered them to pick up something from a shop. It's not that far.", Charlie reassured.

"Charlie.", the porn star dead panned.

"Yes?", the Princess smiled.

"How long have they been in Hell? I mean out there, not in the hotel."

"Less than a day..."

Everyone is quiet before rushing out of the hotel.

"Damn it Charlie! They might die!", Angel shouts.

"I didn't think it'd be that bad! Oh no no no no no-!", she apologizes as they all run down the road into the city.

Alastor just sighs and follows calmly behind the group.

What a way to start the day..

.

You were getting groceries for the Princess.

She said that most of the food was gone and with the help of Vaggie, you got a list of the things you needed to get.

At the store, you were a bit confused but you met a nice older woman that helped you learn what the aisle signs said.

"Muchas gracias." (Thank you very much.)

"De nada!", the woman waved her hand. (You're welcome!) "Qué demonio tan atractivo eres." (What an attractive demon you are.)

After paying and carrying all the bags, you made your way through the city and tried to go back to the hotel quickly.

But a tall bug stands in your way once you make it to the entertainment district.

"Ah~ The deer that appeared on the screens.", the tall moth demon smiled wide and approached you. "Valentino is my name and I want you to work for me. A face like yours is well liked among the sinners.", he said and reached out to hold your face.

"No quiero lo que me ofreces.", you quickly moved your head away. (I don't want what you are offering.)

"Ah, pero imagina todo el dinero que ganarás~" (Ah, but imagine all the money you'd be making~), he continued. "Todas las delicias pecaminosas que podrás darte.", his eyes glowed as he circled you like a snake, leaning in close to whisper in your ear. (All the sinful delights you'll get to indulge in.)

You grabbed the moth's face roughly and brought him down to eye level with you.

"I said. I don't want it.", you glared, shoving him away after feeling the groceries shift in your hold. "Adiós. Espero no volver a verte." (Farewell. I hope to never see you again.)

"¿¡Quién te crees que eres!? ¡No puedes darme la espalda!", Valentino hissed out and pulled you back by your arm, making you drop the bag. (Who do you think you are!? You don't get to turn away from me!)

Some of the groceries spilled out onto the street, now no longer edible as blood and grime soiled it.

The moth continued to yell and shout vulgar words, but you just frowned at the loss of food.

"Are you even listening!?", the tall demon shouted in your ear as he tightened his grip on your arm.

"No.", you said and looked at him with a dead stare.

It was the tipping point for him, his anger boiled over and he went to strike you with his hand.

Quickly, you lowered and tilted your head down just a bit before lunging forward. Your antlers stabbed into his chest and blood sprayed onto the top of your head and shoulders.

"¡Pedazo de mierda!", he shouted and grabbed your antlers, slamming you back into a brick wall. (You piece of shit!)

You felt your back sting with pain as he held you in place to remove your antlers from his chest. He managed to kick your stomach, knocking the air out of you. You tried to hit back but he moved out the way.

The moth demon sprayed some pink liquid on you before escaping.

It got in your eyes, making you close them as it felt like burning. The smell was sweet but strong, like a syrup that was too sweet. To the point that it made you feel sick.

After cleaning off the liquid, you salvaged what you could and continued your way back to the hotel.

.

"Where are they!?", Angel cried out.

The hazbin group returned from their search and met up in the lobby. Sir Pentious was still out with his egg minions.

"I didn't see them anywhere! I went to the grocery stores, checked alleys, and bars! Do you know how many bars there are in Hell!?"

"At least we didn't find a body, so we know they are still alive somewhere.", Vaggie muttered.

"Perhaps they've been eaten!", Alastor smiled cheerfully.

The group looked at him in horror.

Niffty not so much, but she was still upset about not getting bugs.

"That's not-", Charlie started.

"WHAT IF THEY WERE EATEN!?", the spider screeched.

"DAMN IT ANGEL, THEY WEREN'T EATEN!", the white haired woman yelled back.

"BUT WHAT IF THEY WERE!?", Niftty jumped into the conversation, smiling.

"You ain't helping Nift.", Husk grumbled.

"I swear to Satan-!"

"Calm down!"

The others stopped screeching at each other when hearing the entrance door open, all turning their heads to find the mule deer dragging their feet as they walked into the hotel.

Covered in blood, holding a bag of groceries.

"Hola..", they waved with a tired smile.

The spider called their name in relief and rushed over, checking them for injuries.

"Holy shit! What happened to you!?", Angel grabbed their head and brought it down to see their blood soaked antlers. "You've got blood all on top of your head!"

"Estoy bien, estoy bien.", the deer mumbled. (I'm ok, I'm ok.)

"¿Qué mierda paso?", Husk spoke up. (What the fuck happened?)

"Nada demasiado importante.", they gave a small reassuring smile. (Nothing too important.)

"Where are my bugs!", Niftty ran over and tugged on their pants.

"Glad you're ok.", the Princess sighed.

"Yes, yes. We're all glad that they aren't dead.", Alastor says as he walks over. "Now, lets have them cleaned up and well-"

Before the Radio Demon could touch them, the mule deer flinched back.

"Lo siento. No me encuentro bien.", they said and handed the grocery bag over to the spider. (I'm sorry. I don't feel well.) "Voy a descansar en mi habitación. Perdonadme.", they managed to get out before heading upstairs. (I'm going to rest in my room. Pardon me.)

Curious.. He thought as the others dispersed, but then noticed that the arachnid stayed put, staring where the mule deer was last seen.

"What is it now? Aren't you satisfied that they are safe and sound?", he asked.

"Somethin's not right.", Angel said. "They smelled like aphrodisiac was poured all over them."

"A what?", the deer demon replied, a bit confused. "That is a drug, correct?"

"Yeah.. And right now, it ain't a good one.", the fluffy demon stuffed the grocery bag in the fridge before running upstairs, shouting out the mule deer's name.

Curious indeed...

As I was writing this during break, coworker walked up and asked what I was writing and I immediately hid my phone.

~Seline, the person.

Part 4

Taglist@

@c4rved-pumpk1n @scary-noodlesblog @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @lbcreations-blog @ducky-died-inside @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @line-viper @117s-girl @spiderlegsling @alastorsgoldie @kcsketches @lofasofabread @kotaleee @im-coolrat @superzombiewho @speckle-meow-meow @jammcookie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @trashbin-nie @koioli @fatherlesschild2 @mmik3yy @just-here-reading @nealeart @hudiexiaoying @crystal-multiplefandomlover @glowinggoldfish0 @tiredgamerhere @fluffy-koalala @valenfawkes @willowshadenox @aria-tempest @alastor-simp @nonetheartist @gallantys @i-3at-kidz @luxky-aish @ceafighter @xalygatorx @xangel-8 @big-brother-problems @mistpurpl3 @chewbrry @willowbrookhoot @briethekitsune @alastorthirsty @sir-aadiboii @fuzzyturtlepaws @+more in the comments+

ML II Alastor🎙 | CP ChL🦌

[swollenbabyfat]

Quiet now children

[starry-bi-sky]

my body's aching like a knock-down drag-out

and my poor heart is an open wound A Childhood Friends Au snippet that very briefly delves into Danny's life post-accident. CW: Mild Mentions of Blood, Violence, VERY mild gore ig. Danny briefly recalls getting impaled during a fight.

------------

What they don't tell you about being dead is that it hurts. That it can hurt. That it can hurt more than when you were alive. That when you die, the emotions you die with stick with you like a leech that just won't let go. That emotions are ugly little thorns that stick their barbs into you and grow beneath your skin; or, at least, whatever’s left of it. 

Danny is familiar with anger. It kept him warm in Gotham, when his parents weren't home from work and he and Jason were crowding Crime Alley with their presence. It kept him warm in Amity, when the fresh sting of moving was still needling into his heart and he wanted nothing more than to rip and tear into the closest person next to him.

He's familiar with violence. With fights. With death. He's seen people die in Crime Alley probably every day. From overdose, from gunshots, from stab wounds; anything that can kill, rest assured he's seen it. He's familiar with getting his own knuckles rough and bloody when other kids turn and bare their teeth at him and Jason; they're all just starving dogs stuck in a fighting pit, primed and ready to rip out each other's throats. 

Black eyes, stomped hands, bloody noses. You name it; he’s had it. Gotham is paved with the blood of her children, and Danny likes to imagine that when he was born, the doctors handed his mother a file and told her; “Take it. He’s going to need it for his teeth.” 

Danny’s mom (and dad, for that matter) was too busy trying to keep him and Jazz fed, so Danny stole the file from her drawer with Jazz’s help, and did it himself.  

He’s familiar with anger, he thought he was getting better at it these days. It doesn’t come to him as easily as it did before. Of course, that was before Jason died. 

Danny is less familiar with grief. Caring kills and Gotham kills the caring, so Danny cares very little about other people. Or he tries to. But grief hurts. His grief hurts. It hurts too much. It hurts like a bug trying to crawl out of his chest; like a rat chewing a hole through his heart. Some days he wants to dig his hands into his hair and split himself down the middle. Some days he just wants to scream. 

He’s dead. He’s dead. He’s dead. 

He wants the whole city to hear him wailing, some days. It sticks itself in the back of his throat like bile, and Danny is one wrong retch away from letting it loose. It sticks in his lungs like all the tar he’s smoked in since he was nine. It pushes and aches at his temples, in his head, like his brain is trying to swell out of his skull. His thoughts becoming so loud they threaten to commandeer his tongue.  

He has no mouth, but he must scream. 

Something they don’t tell you about being dead is that it hurts. That it hurts more than when you were alive. Something they don’t tell you about being dead is that it’s violent. That it’s bloody. Or as bloody as it can be when everyone has no blood. 

Another thing they don’t tell you about being dead, is that it’s a lot like Gotham that way.

With no threat of death, Danny’s enemies forget death itself. Blood comes easy, like water, and teeth are encouraged. Bring your own fangs to the fight. Dying is something you can just walk off. 

Danny’s been dead for three months. He can’t say he’s been walking it off easy. He’s perfected the art of turning his nails into claws since his heart was still beating, but he can’t say he’s perfected fighting other ghosts. 

Scrappy is just not enough. 

He feels like he’s back in Gotham again. Back in her death-shroud alleyways, fighting someone bigger than him. But there’s no Jason to watch his back, and Danny has to get himself out of there alone. Or he might just not get up at all. 

Black eyes, busted lips. It’s familiar to him like an old scent, Danny isn’t quite sure that he’s missed it. It’s more familiar than his fights with Dash. 

But there’s no one else who can do it but him. Not Sam, not Tucker. He can’t lose them too. He can’t. He can’t. He can’t. His heart can’t take another break, he already feels like he’s going insane. 

With no threat of death, Danny’s enemies fight like death themself. He learns why when Technus puts a street sign through his stomach one day. It pins him to the asphalt like a moth pinned by its wings. 

Danny claws at the metal like how an animal caught in a trap chews off its leg, and every move is blinding pain. He thinks he was howling, but it’s hard to tell. He couldn’t recognize the sound of his voice. 

He bleeds green. It mixes in black with the pitch blackhole in his heart, which throbs and twists and cries in time with his reckless panic. The finger-choking terror of dying again strangles out the air he doesn’t need. His blood evaporates, only to reabsorb into him. It just bleeds out again, cycling like a snake eating its own tail. 

Danny breaks his nails clawing at the metal, and eventually gets it in his mind to pull it out. So he does, and the end drips ectoplasm green as he gets to his feet. In red-vision, Danny sends the sign back with snarling, vicious fervor. The pain is irrelevant in his rage.

Only after the fight does the hole the pole left start to close. Danny doesn’t shift human until it’s gone. Unlike other injuries, a scar stays behind. Ugly; mottled, it aches for a week with every twist and stretch his body makes. He hates it. 

Being dead is agony. 

Every part of him is in pain. Every step, every word he speaks, everything he does, it is prerequisite with pain. The body is temporary, but the soul is forever, and death has carved into it with its freezing green hands and left him with never-ending heartache. It has torn from him and stolen what of him it could, and in return it’s left him with sorrow. 

His pain is his grief, and he’s sobbed in the safety of his room more times than he can count. It’s still as fresh as the day he heard the news of Jason’s death. He knows, instinctively, that it will stay fresh forever. 

In his room, Danny shoves his hands over his mouth and shrieks in whatever, muffled way he can into his pillow. It’s not enough. It’s never enough. He needs to be louder. He needs to be heard. He refuses to be. 

Being dead hurts. 

[the-kr8tor]

Hello! I hope you're having a lovely day/night, and I was hoping to put in a request if you don't mind! So, what if Hobie and reader are exploring an abandoned building/apartment? Like, it's all fun, and it's relatively well-lit, but there are some dark places. Eventually, they find the stairs of the building and start climbing up, all while exploring a few rooms on the way up, seeing what people wrote on the walls and all. Soon, they get up to the building and reader has their back turned to Hobie, who manages to slip half of a matching jewelry or something he managed to get, whether it be stolen or bought from a small business is up to you!:) Of course, you are able to change some stuff to your liking!

Thank you for requesting!!! 😘❤️❤️❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.7k

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader, cw food mentions, cw violence mention, FLUFF

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

“Seventh date and you finally decided to murder me.” You say as you stand apprehensively in front of an abandoned building. Its concrete walls are crumbling, the old facade full of colorful graffiti. The crickets chirp behind it, the thicket providing the extra creep factor that makes your skin crawl.

“Nah, I've decided that would be for our anniversary.” Hobie takes his helmet off while you simmer from his comment.

He wants to continue to more than seven dates, he wants to stay with you and have an actual anniversary. You can't believe how you got so lucky. And he thinks the same for him, he can't fathom why you stayed this long, especially now that he has brought you to an abandoned dilapidated property. He can't believe you're not running away and screaming bloody murder, you must really fancy him.

Cheeks warm, arms crossed to fight the biting cold, and the moonlight shining directly down on you like you were chosen by the goddess herself, Hobie can't help but sigh in wonderment.

“You're staring. Again.” You hide your sudden shyness with your scarf. “You're definitely gonna kill me, obsession is a trait most killers have you know.”

He chuckles, boots slowly inching closer to you, “what else do they have?” He taunts, a playful smile on his lips.

Christ it's getting harder and harder for you to not kiss him. You really want to, ever since he gave you your own helmet on your fourth date, with him saying that it's an investment for future dates so you don't have to keep borrowing his own. You swear you've never wanted to kiss someone this much in your entire life.

You pretend to think, “they're incredibly charming.” He gives you his best smile whilst slowly coming closer. “They have a knack for making people trust them, and in turn making them vulnerable.”

Hobie stands toe to toe with you, feigning intimidation. You again resist the urge to kiss him. “Do I make you feel vulnerable, love?”

You wave your bashfulness away, tugging him by the lapels of his leather jacket, you pull him closer. “No, that's for our twelfth date.”

He breaks the bit you two have going on, laughing, he holds your face in his cool hands, squeezing your equally cool cheeks. “Lookin' forward to it.”

You mirror his smile, “yeah, I'll be super vulnerable that day, so you better reschedule my murder on that day instead.” Cheeks still squished, your comment was a garbled mess. Good thing he speaks fluent Y/N.

“I'll keep that in mind,” Hobie leans close, lips dangerously close to yours, “you're right about one thing though,” his breath fans against your lips, and the anticipation is killing you. “I'm bloody charmin’” Abruptly leaning away, he leaves you standing on the pavement dazed and confused.

His laugh wakes you up, turning around, you see his satisfied smile and his twinkling eyes. He beckons you over, the metal of his jacket clinking from his movement. “You comin'? Or you're still frozen from my charm?”

You put your hands on your hips, exasperated but happy and smitten. “I change my mind, I think I should be the one who gets to murder you.”

Hobie guffaws, his loud laugh echoing around the vast and empty space. “If you can catch me!” He sprints off, entering the building, leaving you alone. In the dark. Where there might be creatures lurking.

“That little shit.” Something rustles in the bushes, and you make a run for it. “You little shit!” You scream after him. “Get back here!”

Your footsteps echo in the darkness, with only the moonlight peeking through the cracks in the concrete as your guide, you huff in place. The musty and earthy smell of the building jumps at you. There's water dripping from somewhere, and there's old broken furniture littered around the place. You deduce it was a mansion before it was abandoned, just based on the fact that there's a huge chandelier on the floor.

“Keep this up, Hobie, and there won't be an eighth date!” Voice carried off by the wind, a light hits the side of your face.

“Don't even joke about that, love. That's fuckin’ scary.” Hobie finally shows himself, torch in hand, and a deep frown on his previously smiling lips.

“Scarier than this place?”

“Yes, how are you gonna kill me on our anniversary if we can't even have an eighth date?” He hands you a spare torch, hands brushing along yours. The pads of his fingers linger for a second more. “‘m sorry for leavin’ you, I won't do it again. I promise this place is safe, yeah? And it'll be worth it.”

You narrow your eyes suspiciously at him, “please tell me you're not planning on snogging me here.”

Hobie makes an offended face, scoffing, “nah, our first kiss here? Get off it, I'll kiss you like a proper gentleman, with roses littered on the floor and romantic music playing.” You snicker, and he does the same. Eyes full of endearment for you, he continues. “I’ll even add a home cooked meal into the mix.”

You relent, looping your arms over his neck, you can't help but smooch his cheek. “I'll take the home cooked meal.”

He embraces your middle, “I hope you like pesto, and the most delicious cheesecake you'll ever have in your entire life.”

“I like them both, especially if you're the one making them.” You hug him closer. “Will you let me help at least?”

“How ‘bout you sit on my counter and look pretty instead?”

You look up, pretending to think, “sure thing, handsome. But let me clean up after?”

“That, I can't do, it's against my principles.”

“Oh principles, huh?” You lean your face close, lips ghosting over his own. Taunting him, leading him into a trap, he turns into putty in your arms.

“Mm-hmm, principles.” His tone wavers as he focuses on your pretty lips and how your eyes shine just for him.

Suddenly moving away with a giggle, he looks at you like you just kicked his puppy. “Sucker.” You say, smiling mischievously.

He nods, hands on his hips, bested at his own game. Biting his lips, head down, he doesn't let his giddy smile show itself. “Fuckin' hell,” he could only say while under the fog of affection you created.

“You okay, Hobie?” You duck, peeking at his face to tease him further. “What did you want to show me in this musty place? We did have to ride here for an hour and a half.”

Fixing his composure, he almost loses it again when he sees you playfully tilt your head. Biting his tongue, and trying (and failing) to calm his heartbeat, he finally replies. “Upstairs, love.”

You grin like you've won the biggest teddy bear at the fair. “Okie dokie, upstairs it is.”

“You go first.” He gestures towards the worse for wear stairs with his head.

“And let you pull a fast one on me? Nope, you go first.”

“You go first because if you fall I can catch you, not because I want to take a look at your arse.”

You fake a gasp, “I didn't say anything about looking at my ass, I was talking about you scaring me.” Shaking your head like you're chastising him, you still go up the stairs first. “What was that saying? The one that James said to his girl last week?” You bait him.

“‘I hate to see you leave but love to watch you go?’”

“Hobie!” You giggle out, winning once again.

“I'm startin' to think that I should've gone first.” He says it flatly but his soft smile says otherwise.

The stairs are winding, with every step the stairs get more and more broken than the last. With its cracking and creaking wood, the material has been morphed from the elements through the years. The walls have different graffiti on them, some are cool looking but some are mostly raunchy that are most commonly seen on bathroom stalls.

His arms are ready to catch you when you almost slip on a piece of glass. Hand on the small of your back, he's starting to think twice about bringing to his old spot.

“You alright?” He sighs in relief at your nod. “Careful,” guiding you upwards, for his own sanity, his hand never left your back.

“What’s at the end of the rainbow?” You ask, voice echoing, “Spiderman himself better be waiting for us up there or—” your words get stuck in your throat at the view.

Hobie leads you away from the stairs, and towards the roof. Without the trees blocking the sky, light and smoke pollution hiding the stars, you gasp at the sight. Millions of stars twinkle, no clouds in sight as the full moon greets you back.

“I've never seen so many stars.” You gawk and softly chuckle. “It's beautiful.”

Hobie could only gaze at you as the stars reflect your eyes. “It is.”

After a breath, you look at Hobie with adoration. “Thank you for bringing me here. The trip was worth it.”

He takes your hand, “I used to hang around ‘ere on my own, the view helps.”

“You bring all your girls here?” You joke.

“Nah, only you. Just you, love.” Your heart leaps at the words. The sudden coldness around your wrist almost makes you jump if not for his hold.

“What's this?” Hobie moves his hand away to reveal a silver bracelet with an itty bitty black guitar pick charm. You crane your neck up so fast he thought that you might've broken it. “Hobie,” you say breathlessly. “What— wh—” You clamp your mouth shut when he holds your face gingerly.

“Is this better than havin' spiderman ‘ere?” Hobie leans closer for the third time. He promised that your first kiss wouldn't be in the broken down place, despite its falling walls and waterlogged floors, it has a special place in his heart. It's only appropriate to bring you who has wiggled her way inside his heart to his special place.

“A thousand times better.” Your cold breaths mix together.

“Does this mean I get an eighth date?” His thumb rubs soothingly under your eyes.

“That and a hundred more.” Finally closing the gap, you kiss him like how the stars graze the sky. Softly and tenderly, leaving pieces of yourself in the kiss.

Maybe he'll tell you about his other secret at one of those hundred dates.

[deepfakefart]

EDIT: please see @cliffsideview's replies for more info! Tragically it is sounding more probable that it was a suicide spurred by a long period of bullying. Every person who participated, every teacher who stood by, every legislator who is a proponent of the anti-trans bills – every one of them is complicit in Nex's death. Ryan Walters specifically has blood on his hands.

They're ruling Nex Benedict's death a suicide. Death due to "combined toxicity" of fluoxetine (Prozac) and diphenhydramine (benadryl). Let's explore this.

Fluoxetine is known to cause seizures at very high dosages but rarely causes death. In one case study, 1.4 grams of Prozac likely caused a seizure but not death in an adult woman. "A dose as low as 520 mg of fluoxetine has been associated with a lethal outcome, but there’s record of someone taking 8 grams of fluoxetine and recovering," according to Healthline. ("Associated with" does not necessarily mean the sole cause!) Diphenhydramine overdose has been known to cause death at doses of 20mg/kg or greater; in the USA in 2017, it was involved (but not necessarily the sole factor) in 3% of OD deaths according to the CDC. I've no clue how much Nex weighed but I based my math on a 100lb person. A lethal dose of diphenhydramine at that weight would have been approx 900mg. There is no known lethal dose of fluoxetine for humans. It can vary greatly but is generally safe and generally requires very large doses to cause seizures let alone death. There are no known serious drug interactions between these two drugs.

But let's say there is some interaction at unusually high doses that I don't know about because this is an extremely unusual combination for a suicide attempt. We know that Benadryl is much easier to OD on than Prozac is. So let's pull some numbers out of our asses and say 750mg of diphenhydramine plus 3g of fluoxetine equals lethal dose for a 100lb teenager.

The typical upper range of fluoxetine dosage is 80mg/day. If we assume that Nex was taking 100mg of fluoxetine/day and he had access to a full 30 day supply, that's 3 grams. Add confounding head trauma and diphenhydramine toxicity and...maybe???

But we're talking about someone downing a full or nearly full 30 day supply of high doses of fluoxetine AND about 30 tablets of Benadryl. And there were no signs until he entered the living room and collapsed? Fluoxetine toxicity can cause rapid heartbeat, irritability, nausea, vomiting, dizziness, etc. Diphenhydramine toxicity can cause confusion, irregular heartbeat, agitation, nausea, vomiting, etc. This combo seems like a very uncomfortable and unpleasant way to go and I'm meant to believe he was quiet, not vomiting, not agitated, not terrified – just walked into the living room and collapsed? Unless he was exhibiting those symptoms and Sue didn't say anything about it which doesn't add up either. She said Nex went to bed with a headache and we have audio of the 911 call. She mentions their eyes rolling back and their hands "posturing" (both those things could be related to brain damage or a seizure).

With the added complication of head trauma (blacking out due to head injury = concussion = brain injury), I guess death is feasible but this just doesn't feel right. I don't know. Maybe it was a perfect storm of circumstances but those two drugs are so hard to OD on, not to mention unpleasant to OD on, and this state is so hostile to trans people it's hard not to approach this with a TON of skepticism.

I hope the Benedict family had their own toxicology and autopsy done.

ETA: for the record, im not saying I agree with the suicide decision, I'm saying "I mean I guess technically it's possible but it seems highly unlikely and incredibly sus and I am not convinced"